dance away the night
by affability
Summary: A kiss always means something. Lucas/Brooke.


**notes: **I haven't written for this fandom before even though I love this show. I miss them; it's been a while since they got any attention and they need a little more love. So this my contribution to the L/B fandom. It's vaguely AU, too, since these two weren't endgame.

**dance away the night  
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_a kiss always means something. _

::

It's supposed to be simple, him and her, because they're both just two indecisive high school students. It's supposed to be magical and beautiful; with rain kisses and basketball games and him grinning at her when he scores at matches.

That's all she wants them to be; _light and free_. He's not just another one of her many boyfriends, those she has wrapped around her pinkie finger and use to feel better about herself; he actually draws emotions out of her and makes her _feel_.

"I love you," says Lucas, her long brown hair well in his fingertips. Brooke closes her eyes and hopes to God that he means it, because she knows that he and Peyton aren't completely settled yet. She blows out a breath, biting her lower lip.

"I _do_," he insists, and she leans over, so their eyes meet. She nods, firmly locking their fingers together, and closing her eyes as the sound of the rain invades their surroundings.

::

"I'm writing about you," he tells her. She raises an eyebrow, trying to sneak a peak at the long words written on his laptop screen, through the rim of her mug. It's edging on midnight; her legs are resting across his lap, and the warmth on his laptop on her legs are sweet.

"Really?" she asks. A smile, gentle and small, spreads on her face as she stares. "What does it say?"

Lucas doesn't respond, just allows his smile to widen slowly as he stares, an unfamiliar emotion settling in his wide blue eyes.

"You'll see," he says, grinning. Moonlight sheds into the window and spreads through the room. It's dark, almost pitch-black, and the only source of light is the TV and his laptop, making the moment romantic and beautiful, and somewhat right.

Brooke rests her head on his shoulder, burying her face in his chest.

::

It's midsummer and they (all five of them) attend Bevin's birthday party.

She dances and toasts her glasses like she always did, laughs and smiles, plays _Spin the Body_ and spends some of the evening beside Haley, Peyton and Bevin. She challenges the girls to drink-offs and cheers when she wins, laughs and remains as the life of the party (_a lepoard never changes its spots_).

She doesn't mind the way guys turn and stop to appreciate the way she works her hips in the middle of the dance floor, because she's used to it, but she notices that it doesn't bring a warm feeling to her ego like it used to.

Maybe it's because she has Lucas now, the guy to recite sappy poems when she's sad, to make her laugh, who's there beside her. It's him, though, who carries her home after she's drank one too many shots and can't see straight.

He sets her on the bed, gently, and throws the blanket over her. She closes her eyes, breathes in, and bites her lower lip in preparation for the massive hangover she's sure to get the next morning. He kisses her forehead before he leaves.

And she realizes, then and there, that he changed her. She doesn't need anyone more than she needs him.

::

She gets scared sometimes.

It scares her how much he knows her, how he gets to predict her moves, how much she melts and how she seems to lose herself in the endless seas of blue that lingers in his perfect eyes. She wonders how it was possible to become so attached and so in love at the same time.

"I love you," he says.

She says it back, in the still silence, and her breathing intensifies. She's in too deep, fallen and she can't get up, and she doesn't even know how to try. He's a part of her now, just like she's a part of him; they balance each other out and she's _happy_.

She closes her eyes, so tightly it almost hurts, and rests her hand on top of his. It's an oddly intimate gesture, one that he returns.

::

They leave handprints in the drizzling snow, write words in frosty windows, catch falling snowflakes with their tongues, pelt each other with snowballs and laugh continuously in the dead of winter. It's calm and freezing, easy and simple, without the sore tears and sadness, and Brooke wishes for a moment that winter would last forever.

He holds the umbrella over their heads, sheltering them from the oncoming raindrops. His eyes, blue and brilliant, mold into hers and she suddenly feels self-conscious.

"What?" she asks, reaching over to feel her long locks. "Why are you staring at me like that?" Her eyes widen a little. Lucas shakes his head and smiles, almost sheepishly, and looks away, at a particularly snowy side of the park.

"It's nothing," he says. She raises an unconvinced eyebrow. "You're just really beautiful." He slings his arm over her shoulder, as they both walk down the pavement.

Snowflakes, all bright and purely white and pristine, fall down on them both and in their hair and on her mascara-coated eyelashes.

::

It's like a fairytale; kissing in the pouring rain, throwing snowballs at each other, going to the movies and spending snow days together. She throws her arms around him after basketball matches and he kisses her after cheerleading rounds.

"There's always going to be us," he states, a ghost of a smile on his face, and she sees the emotion in his blue eyes. It feels predestined, because they keep finding ways back to each other, and it feels as if they were both made for each other.

"Yeah," she agrees, grinning, because she wouldn't have it any other way. Their fingers lock, and, under the drizzling rain, Brooke stands on her tiptoes and kisses him. Lucas wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her closer, and breathing.

::

Before graduation, she spends her days with him, tangled between sheets and hands joined as dawn blurs into dusk and days blurs into weeks. It's the happiest she's been in a while, because he's reciting poems for her and she's grinning and laughing.

Abruptly, silence occurs, and the moment doesn't need words. Lucas runs his hand down Brooke's long brown hair and leans over to kiss her. He doesn't speak, just mumbles words and traces patterns on her skin, and she bites her lower lip.

She breathes into the darkness, the moonlight falling on the both of them. It feels like they're ending. Like this will be the last time they'll ever spend the night together. Her eyes close, peacefully and slowly, and their fingers link together subconsciously.

He kisses her.

::

Snowball fights and rain kisses and moonlight dances all felt so real, so genuine, and endless. She never wrapped her mind around the possibility of ending for the past few months, because summer and autumn and long kisses were so part of her.

She misses it, misses him, and wishes he was still here. Her heart aches, breaks and splinters into millions of little pieces, and she wishes he was here to nurse the pain like he always was.

No more poetry readings, no more _I love you's_, no more rain kisses. As she imagines life without him, she wonders how she's going to make it by, and feels her mascara drying darkly on her pale cheeks, and buries her face in the cold pillow.

She closes her eyes, and wishes it all away. She wants to wake up to a new day, with him beside her, kissing her cheek or her wrist or _something_, but it's all over now.

Brooke allows herself to sob, quietly and abruptly, in her palms, staining it with streaks of mascara and eye-shadow.

::

The last time they're together, is in the middle of the pouring, freezing, icy downfall of the heavy rain. It brings back memories, causes them to come flooding back to her, and she has to blink when she sees him.

"I miss you," he shouts, loudly so his words don't get swallowed up by the heavy rain. She doesn't speak, doesn't do anything but stare at him as her mascara tracks down her face and as the dampness of the rain splashes on her face and his.

_It's now or never_. She leans over and crashes her lips against his, closing her eyes because she knows they'll both wake up tomorrow and forget this ever happened.

It's three years after leaving Tree Hill with Peyton, and it feels so painfully wrong because she knows Peyton still loves him, and Lucas loves her, but she'll always have a place in Lucas's heart, too. He doesn't hesitate, and it's almost like he expected it.

Their fingers, locked, and it almost feels like old times. Her breathing intensifies as their eyes, blue and brown, bore into each other. She breaks the kiss, lips inches from his, and he nods at the unspoken vow that lingers in the night air:

_Don't ever speak of this._

"I love you," she says, into his open mouth, and her heart aches and breaks and it hurts so damn much. She means those words, and doesn't think she's ever meant anything more than she means this. Her eyes sting with tears and she sniffs.

"Me too," he replies, pressing his forehead against hers, as the icy drips of rain fall on them. It's cold, freezing, and she's probably gonna get sick the next morning, but for some reason she just doesn't _care_.

It's times like these where she can pretend that they both have a happy ending, even though Brooke _knows_ in her heart that it's not possible. He kisses her, and her thoughts vanish instantly.

It's a start.

::


End file.
